In a dreamlike stupor, Aeron readjusted. Something pulled at his wings, and he tried to flick it off. They tangled with whatever it was, and it weighted them down.

His eyes snapped open, and he shouted, "Get it off!" He hopped to his knees and wrestled with the infernal thing for a few seconds before he realized where he was and what had happened.

Tammas jumped onto the bed and disentangled him from what turned out to be a blanket. Aeron mustered as much dignity as he could, stifling a sigh of relief. When he finished, Tammas placed a calming hand against his back. "I'm sorry. You were shivering last night, so I thought--thought a blanket would help. You, um..." He cleared his throat. "You should probably wear some of my clothes."

Aeron glanced down at his chest, his legs folded beneath him, the small scrap of his garment, meant simply to "protect the dangly parts", as Awela was fond of saying. Tammas wore no shirt just then, and his torso was littered with patches of hair--not like fur, but thin and silky-looking. There was a particularly interesting trail of it that began at his navel and disappeared into his overprotective breeches.

When Aeron looked up, Tammas's face was bright red. The man turned, sat at the edge of the bed, and leaned over with his elbows on his thighs.

Aeron snorted. His throat felt dry and raw, and his mouth still tasted like sick. "You look ridiculous in all those clothes. I only look like myself."

"To be sure." There was a small laugh in Tammas's voice. "But you can't go out like that."

"You will--" He paused. After listening to Tammas for a while, he knew he wasn't doing that right. "You'll allow me to go out with you?"

He sat straighter and looked over his shoulder. "Allow you? Could I stop you, now I've destroyed the wards?"

"You have no others?" Aeron felt foolish again. He wondered if the story from last night was the truth; maybe Tammas really hadn't bound him. Maybe the summoning was an accident.

Maybe he really was going mad.

"Oh, uh, no more. Promise." Tammas stood and stretched. His back was less hairy, the skin smooth and golden-brown. Long lines of muscle sank prettily into the V at the small of his back.

A few moments, just the two of them breathing and clinging, and Tam finally said, "Are you sure this compact is a good idea?"

"I'm yours, so you take care of me." Aeron disentangled one arm from around Tam and pushed that hand under his shirt. He growled impatiently and tugged upward.

Tam parted from him for just long enough to pull it off. Now they came together skin-against-skin; they sighed, and Tam's eyes burned. Together. This is something we still feel together. This is something no one can take from us. He bit down on his lip to keep the desperation from spilling over and simply said, "Yes."

"And you're mine, so I take care of you." Aeron's fingers threaded through the hair on his chest, that same curiosity and appreciation that had been there moons ago, unfaded by familiarity. "I want what you want. And this arrangement could get us what we want."

Tam rested his forehead against Aeron's, slipping two fingers beneath the gather at Aeron's waist, into the split of his ass. He kept his voice low, even lower than it had been. "Is it truly dangerous?"

Aeron said, the sound of a smile in his voice, "I'll manage."

"We."

"What?"

"You're not going into this with just him for help."

Aeron laughed and squeezed his fingers together, catching Tam's chest hair between them. He rocked his hips so his growing erection rubbed at Tam's, eliciting a gasp. Aeron asked, "Are you jealous?"

"Yes." Aeron's fingers raked over Tam's chest again, found their way to his nipples and pinched. "Why shouldn't I be? You're mine. You just admitted it."

Tam's cock twitched, and his knees weakened. He pushed both hands downward, cupping Aeron's tight, round little backside. There was a damp patch on the back of his shorts; he must've washed up before coming inside. Tam grinned and kissed at his neck.

Aeron's wings fluttered. The tie at Tam's waist caught between them, held fast between their hips. There was no room for anything but the moment. That recently hollowed place in Tam's mind didn't echo, pathetic and lonely. He even forgot what they'd been discussing, though he still had some idea it had been important. He tilted his head and kissed Aeron, still holding his ass tight, pulling him into his own body.

When Tam turned around, Aeron was in the tub, arms hanging over the sides, wings tucked up behind him tight. Tam failed to answer immediately, mesmerized by this sight, and so Aeron made a face. “Fine,” he said. “Don't.”

But Tam did. He peeled off his long shirt and trousers, knowing he was being watched, almost relieved by it. The resultant heat that rose in him had nothing to do with the bath water, but with Aeron’s long, pale limbs beneath its wavering surface and the glint of the firelight off his smoky-silver wings and smooth, dark hair.

Aeron ducked beneath the water to wet it, then began soaping his hair as Tam watched. Eventually, Tam couldn’t resist, and so reached out and ran his fingers up the curve of Aeron’s slender, hard calf underwater. Aeron ignored him, going on with his soaping—though he didn’t pull away—leaving Tam with no choice but to get on with washing his own hair.

After long moments of this treatment, the torment became intolerable. Tam’s cock was so full of blood, so hard it ached in the hot water. It seemed almost to pulse with his heartbeat, if he paid too much attention to it—and how could be pay attention to anything else? It didn’t help that he could see Aeron’s slimmer cock had also stiffened—but Aeron was much better at pretending not to notice such things. He stood, turned to show his pert, perfect backside to Tammas, and then stepped out of the tub and reached for a towel.

Finally, Aeron said, back still to Tammas, “Are you clean?”

“Yes,” Tam answered, throat rough and dry as if he hadn’t used it in a moon. Slowly, he stood in the tub. His cock thrust out before him, even gave a small twitch at the sensation of the cooler air.

Aeron looked back over his shoulder, wrapping the towel slowly about his waist. It dropped just above his ass, showing the top of his crack and the muscled dip at the small of his back. His wings fluttered, shedding excess water onto the woven mat. His leaf-green eyes narrowed as his gaze ran up and down Tam. Then he made a slight “hmph” sound and made as if to walk away and find clean clothes.

It was a punishment and a tease all at once, and Tam had long since forgotten if he deserved either. Disregarding the soap and water still dripping from his body, he stepped out of the bath and went directly to Aeron, grabbing his narrow hips firmly from behind—careful of the wings, of course.

They tucked up tighter as Aeron looked back at him again. His nose wrinkled up. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Tam wasn’t sure in terms of details, but he had a general plan. He pulled Aeron nearer.

Though he made an annoyed face, Aeron tucked his wings up tighter still.

Tam leaned in, the hair on his chest just brushing at the paper-thin, glassy membrane of the fairy wings. He kissed the back of Aeron’s neck, then his wet hair. Then moved down to his shoulder blade, just behind his wings. His fingers hooked into the top of Aeron’s towel, lodging at first in the split of his ass, then flicking upward, tracing lines the smooth, bath-soft, flushed-warm skin up, up...

“Tam,” Now it was Aeron’s voice that sounded rough. His back arched slightly.

Now who’s the tease? Tam thought, but he needed to taste Aeron more than he needed to speak. He leaned in and kissed his neck again. Then bit.

“Unh,” Aeron said.

Tam steered him towards the bed, nipping at him and prying his towel away slowly, until Tam’s cock brushed against the undercurve of Aeron’s backside with each step.

“What are you—?” Aeron tried to ask.

But Tam cut him off: “You know what. Be quiet.”

“You—”

They had reached the bed by then, or near enough, so Tam simply said, “Shhhh,” and let his fingers at last find the sweet spot just beneath Aeron’s wings, where the stalk met his back.

“You’re the one who talks too much,” Aeron protested weakly as his knees met the bed.